


Parting Gifts

by VagueOmen



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: F/M, Hannibal (TV) Season/Series 03, Implied Cannibalism, Implied Sexual Content, Possessive Hannibal Lecter, Romance, bedelia has stockhom sydrome for REAL, can be read as pre will/hannibal or can be read as just bedelia/hannibal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-24 07:21:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30068700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VagueOmen/pseuds/VagueOmen
Summary: Hannibal invites his trophy wife Bedelia to a masquerade ball
Relationships: Bedelia Du Maurier/Hannibal Lecter
Kudos: 11
Collections: Hannibal Flashfic #009





	Parting Gifts

Bedelia rubbed her closed lips together, the velvety lipstick spreading over her mouth. She wore the nude pink shade every day, as a last grab for control. Of course, it had been Hannibal that bought it for her. Her control was the ability to choose which colors he had provided to her. As far as she could tell, this was his least favorite. 

She couldn’t find the reason in herself for putting on this face every sunrise. She could only think that perhaps it was to find her own routine. She knew that it was a shallow lie but an easy and not uncommon psychiatric answer. 

Her look was simple, elegant, respectable,and expected. The colleagues of Hannibal often brought their wives around, or were sometimes women themselves. They always asked her what her secret was. They would ask “how do you do it?”. Bedelia did her best to try to appear flattered before stealing away to get another drink or dangle herself on the arm of her husband. Her grace and beauty were the result of him. On her own she was quite naturally stunning, but around him it was her only purpose. She is purely for the consumption of others. Her appearance was only the outermost layer of the feast she found herself becoming. 

Bedelia made sure that this was the version of herself that Hannibal saw first every day. He saw her without her hair, makeup, and wardrobe done up plenty, but never during his first sights of her each day. She revealed herself to him in the bath, when she was ill, in the late nights when she stays up to see who’s body he’s brought home, and sometimes in bed together. 

They did not share a room. She had her own space, but was only ever there to sleep or be with Hannibal. He comes to her room in the night and she is treated like the divine creature he sees her as, devoured her, and slinks away to his own room without a word. 

She didn’t mind being such an item for those around her, as much as she wished she would loathe it. Falling into her luxurious life as Hannibal’s trophy wife felt like she was melting ice. She molded right into her new self with quick ease. 

Hannibal had been proud of her adjustment. He had noticed how quickly she began to bask in the simpleness of being his pretty pet. Everything she wore, ate, and used was all provided by him. He had her trained like a cat. She could make her choices, but the reality of her situation was that she was entirely owned. 

Bedelia putting on her husband’s least favorite lip shade was really the least of either of their worries. 

***

Bedelia sipped at her wine, eyes glazed over and looking at the dusk on the horizon out the window of the apartment. She could taste the light trace of creaminess and chalk from her lipstick. 

“Is the food sufficient to your tastes, Bedelia?” Hannibal asked as he cut into own steak. 

“You know it is.” she sighed. “Although I should, I never disagree with your cooking. It is unfortunately your forte.” 

Hannibal took a slow and steady drink from his glass. “Then what bores you so?” he asked. “I have given you anything you could want.” 

She studied his face, choosing not to point out that they both knew. The one thing she wanted he could never give her- freedom. 

“You are well aware of the damages to captivity and repetitiveness. The same meal, same time, same days over and over again. When I feel anything, I feel as though I am stuck in a time loop of your creation.” she answered. 

He didn’t look up at her face when he spoke to her. “Surely you prefer this stability to what awaits you outside of your stay in time.”

“Incarceration in time, Hannibal.”

“You can leave anytime you’d like.” He looked her in the eye. 

“Can I?” she asked. She stared back at him as she lifted an oyster shell to her lips. 

***

That night Bedelia was making her way to the study to say goodnight to Hannibal. When she entered the room he wasn’t there. 

His laptop was open on the desk. 

It would seem that his tabs kept on that strange man he seemed so taken with had finally turned up with something. Will Graham’s little friends had sent out a bounty for him. 

“How sweet.” she thought out loud to herself. 

Her own prison sentence must be ending soon. Unlike Will Graham, she suspects she will not be acquitted. 

She wondered around the apartment until she found Hannibal, of course, in the kitchen. 

“What are you making?” she asked. 

“A cold cream dessert.” 

“Icecream. What is the occasion?”

“It isn’t quite yet.” he corrected. “I simply wish to share something sweet with you. After all, you deserve it.”

“I can’t say I agree.” she said as she sat down on a stool near the kitchen island to watch him. 

“Why not?” he asked. “You do anything anyone asks of you, especially myself. You do so well to present yourself nicely and socialize with my colleagues. I find hardly any flaws in you, Bedelia.” he handed the mixing spoon. “Here, try this.”

She used her finger to swipe up some of the cream from the spoon. She brought it to her mouth and sucked it thoughtfully. “It’s good. It has been a significant amount of time since you’ve given me something sweet.” she said. 

“I am glad this meets your expectations.” He put the spoon back into a bowl. 

“Hannibal,.” she began. “When will this end? I sense that you’re nearly done with me.”

“I find it hard to bring myself to stop enjoying you, Bedelia.” 

“I’m easier to lay waste to than your other wife.” 

“You’ve been in my study.” he noted. 

“Yes.”

“While we must be moving on someday- I assure that I will never lay waste to you.” He smiled at her and put the cream in the fridge. 

“Goodnight, Hannibal.” 

She moved to leave the kitchen when a hand landed on her shoulder. She didn’t look behind her to face him. 

“I will enjoy you in death as I have in life. After I have consumed you completely and you are gone I will still think of you.” He began to thread his fingers through the tips of her hair. “I have never felt the lack of presence of anyone when I am done with them. You have been so divine that you will be the first.”

“Me and your dear agent.” she whispered. 

He took his hands out of her hair and turned away. “Goodnight, Bedelia.”

She hummed back and left to her room. 

*** 

A week later after dinner Bedelia had gone to her room for an early night. On her bed was a tasteful and elegant golden dress, along with a similarly colored mask. 

A handwritten note lay on her pillow. In Hannibal’s handwriting were the words “ _ Tomorrow Evening. 8 pm. I will only be present if requested. _ ”

It should’ve felt like a trap, but she knew otherwise. He was offering her something to do, a place to be, a woman to present as. He was allowing her individuality before she met her fate. She knew how difficult it was for him to share her. She figured that must be why it was a masquerade ball. 

“Hannibal?” she asked. 

He stepped in from the hallway. 

“Come with me.”

“As you wish.” 

***

The next evening Bedelia excused herself to her room after dinner. She looked over her face and body in the mirror. 

She stripped out of her day clothes and stepped into the golden gown. She pulled it over her shoulders and examined herself again. It had a slim fit, extenuating her hips and chest. The fabric was overlaid with a golden lace. She looked like a fit for the luxurious tastes of Hannibal. 

It didn’t take her long to get ready after she got zipped in. Gold adorned her ears and neck. She put dark smokey shadows on her eyelids and a faint blush on her cheeks. Lastly, she grabbed her least used lipstick, a deep and dark red. It resembled the color of old blood. She was tired of defying anyone in anything. 

Hannibal had seemed pleased with the choice, but made now show of it. He always tried to be opaque but Bedelia could always see through him. 

They didn’t speak on the drive over to the ballroom. Upon arrival, Hannibal had slipped on his matching mask and exited the car to open the other door for Bedelia. “Let us away.” he said, holding out his hand. 

She put on her own mask, took his hand, and followed him in. 

Inside the ball was loud, but not overwhelming music. A live orchestra played in the back of the room. 

Hannibal stood close to Bedelia and leaned his face right beside her ear. He kissed her cheek. “May I have this dance?” he asked. 

She spoke back into his ear. “You may have every dance.”

Hannibal grabbed her waist and shoulder and led her around the room in circles, never taking his eyes off of her. 

**Author's Note:**

> i am fascinated by the relationship between these two. i like to think that they did like each other for their own weird and fucked up reasons <3


End file.
